Despite the usual heart-wrenching angst of having to watch him be led away, Anna had a wonderful day. The mood of the conversation was much lighter with a third person present, and John and her mother seemed to get along well. On the train back, she was able to talk about him like she never had before, going into all sorts of details and emotions she never thought she'd express to another person. Only after being asked, but nevertheless. She finally opened up.
Returning to the farm was very pleasant too, and Anna was immediately swept up into a game of hide and seek with the three oldest children.
"Go go go!" cried James, tearing across the yard as Alec began to count backwards from 10.
"Come on!" hissed Eileen, grabbing Anna's hand and pulling her into the barn.
Pete appeared in the doorway of the small house, gesturing roughly for his wife to come inside.
...
"Well?" said the old farmer, closing the door.
"Well what?"
"What's he like?"
Ida hung her coat and hat on the hook by the door. "He's nice. He's very polite."
"'Polite' is not the same as nice."
"He's polite and nice. We had a pleasant conversation… He and Anna smiled at each other – it was quite cute to watch."
"What do you mean, 'smiled at each other'?"
"I mean exactly that, with a look of utter devotion in their eyes."
"Well that doesn't sound good!"
"What? Aren't you happy that your daughter has found someone who loves her?"
"Does he, though? That's the big question."
"From the way he was looking at her, yes, I'd say he does."
Pete's eyebrows rose in alarm. "Looking at her? What do you mean, how was he looking at her?"
Ida rolled her eyes. "Lovingly. Like he was very pleased to see her."
"Well of course he was, she's the only pretty thing he sees all week!"
Ida had disappeared into the kitchen. "Would you like some tea, love?" she called.
"Yeah, thanks." Pete had been frowning since the trap had returned, and showed no sign of stopping yet.
Ida put the kettle on to boil.
"Oh, by the way, we're eating here tonight," Pete said, leaning on the kitchen doorway.
"What? I thought Janet was arranging a family dinner again – it's Anna's last night!"
"Precisely, and I want to talk to her."
"Oh, Peter, what about? I've been talking to her all day."
"There are some things she needs to hear from her father."
"Janet baked an extra loaf of bread earlier!"
"We're gonna have breakfast there. Cooked breakfast. Compromise."
"You mean you went over there, where she was studiously preparing a family dinner, and said, 'Can we put it off 'till tomorrow morning, I'll just make my wife cook a meal in the small house after she gets home from a long day in the trap and on the train.'"
"And in the prison."
"Yes, that too."
"I can't believe I let you go there."
"You are skating on thin ice, Peter Smith!"
"Alright, I'll help you with the potato scrubbing!"
...
"Sorry about the turnips, love, they're a bit past their prime," said Ida, ladling a large serving of vegetables onto Anna's plate.
"They look fine to me, they look nice!" Anna smiled. "The fish looks fantastic too, who caught that?"
"I did," said Pete glumly. "Went to the river today."
"Well done, Dad, they're a good size!"
"Yeah." Unsure of what else to say, Pete began tucking in to his meal.
Ida and Anna did the same, and silence fell for a while.
"I might go to the river tomorrow," said Anna. "I'd almost forgotten it was there!"
Ida almost choked on her food. "You what? You were down there every other day when you were young!"
"Yeah, that's why I'd like to go back."
"There's a nice lake at Downton, though, isn't there? Do you go there much?"
"Yeah." Anna sighed. "I do."
They fell silent again. Anna could feel her father's eyes on her, as she had done for almost her entire visit. Every time she glimpsed his face, she had to look away again – he looked worried, and it made her feel guilty.
"Were you down there long, Dad?"
Pete started. "What?"
"At the river."
"Oh, yeah, yeah, I s'pose. It's a good place to stop and think."
"It is. Water is good with that, the sound of it is soothing. Helps the mind, I think."
"Yeah."
Anna took another bite of fish, and the conversation abruptly stopped again. She looked at her mother, realising she'd never heard her so quiet before. Ida was looking at Pete with a somewhat curious, questioning look on her face. Anna turned back to her father. He looked like something was bottled up inside of him, desperate to escape.
"Is there something you want to say, Dad?"
"What?"
"You're being very quiet. Both of you are, actually, it's a bit strange."
"Yeah. There is something I want to say."
"OK."
Pete sighed. "The thing is, Anna… There isn't as much shame around…" he paused, and lowered his voice, "divorce as there used to be."
"WHAT?" Anna spluttered.
"I mean it's, it's OK, don't feel as if you can't, because I would support you, and so would your mother."
"Why on earth would I want a divorce?"
"Well nobody wants it, but sometimes you make decisions that don't work out, and -"
"Oh, is that what you think this is, you think it's a failed decision on my part?"
"You did it in haste, and -"
"Trust me, Dad, no part of my relationship with John has been done in haste!"
"You need to focus on yourself. You have your own life, you can't live it for somebody else."
"Yes I can, when I love him!"
"Don't lose sight of yourself."
"I haven't! But I'm at my best when I'm with him!"
"The thing is, love…" Pete winced. "The thing is, you can't be with him."
"Oh, so you have no hope at all." Anna threw down her knife and fork. "Thanks for that!"
"Sometimes you have to cut your losses, even when it hurts."
"Do you think I married him the only chance I had just so I could throw it all away? If Mum got thrown in prison, would you abandon her?"
"That's different, your mother and I have been married for years -"
"How is that different?"
"You were only married for three days before they took him away!"
"Yes, and that is tragic! It does not, however, make our relationship any less loving or committed than yours is!"
"There are some things that you can only understand with time. If you take some time to get some distance and some perspective, then you may find that you would get on perfectly fine without him – you are now, after all."
"Oh, I'm perfectly fine now, am I?"
Pete looked down, fiddling with the edge of his plate. "I can see that you're not, and I want to protect you from that, but the only way I can see that you can do it is to get away."
"Mum, you don't agree with this, do you?"
Ida sighed. "I think John's a nice man, but so is your father, and he has your best interests at heart, so we should hear him out."
"But what he has at heart is not in my best interests!"
"You can't see it when you're in the thick of it!" Pete interjected. "In the heat of the moment, we don't make the best decisions, because we can't see the situation from the outside. I can, and I think that if you just get some distance, it will get better, and the pain you're feeling now will fade."
"Do you think love fades?"
"When it comes to matters of the heart, it is very easy to get caught up in the heat of the moment and misidentify feelings like that."
"Oh, so you think I don't really love him."
"Maybe if you don't see him for a while, it'll fade."
"You haven't seen me for over a year, did you stop loving me?"
"That's different."
"No. It isn't. I have loved John for seven years, Dad, count them. Longer than James, Alice and Mark have been alive. I have had many years to think about it, I have had plenty of distance, I have been separated from him before and I didn't stop loving him, I won't stop loving him now, and if we hadn't been able to get married, I would have lived in sin with him in some foreign country!"
Ida gasped audibly, and Pete's eyebrows reached his receding hairline. "Don't say things like that in front of your mother!" he hissed.
"Oh, I'm sure she can handle it. I can."
"Now you listen here, you come here, you take a respectable older woman into a prison where you've been going weekly for God knows how long, being exposed to dirty, rotting ideas -"
"I had that idea well before I ever set foot in a prison, Dad. It came from me, it came from love, and there is nothing dirty or rotting about it."
"OK! I believe you. You love him. I can see that very strongly, and I believe you, but what you have to ask yourself is, is he worthy of your love?"
A tear rolled down Anna's cheek. "Yes. He is."
"Does he have your best interests at heart? Because if he doesn't, then he's not worthy, and Anna, a man who marries an innocent young girl when he knows he's about to be carted off by the police, possibly to be sentenced to death, does not have her best interests at heart! Would he sit by and let you become the widow of a murderer?"
Anna's chair fell to the floor with a clatter as she leapt up and ran from the room.
